When I was in high school in the '50s you were supposed to be an Elvis Presley, a James Dean, a Marlon Brando or a Kingston Trio type in a button-down shirt headed for the fraternities at Stanford or Cal.
We all have two things in common, no matter who we are: We were born and we are going to die.
Old minds are like old horses; you must exercise them if you wish to keep them in working order.

